The Bread Shop
by Eevee-shadows
Summary: A young American boy leaves to Paris to escape an arranged marriage. But without any job experience and no idea how to speak French is their hope for this Americain muet?
1. Chapter 1

Hey hey hey! ok, I know its so weird I've started like two stories already and none of them are finished but I can explain... well, no I can't but hey! These things happen! So enjoy this very AU stry !love eevee shadows

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Disclaimer: I own nothing except my own thoughts and dreams..and this plot! The plot is miiiiiiiiiiiiiine! Ha ha ha ha ha ha cough cough...

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And endless blue, it went for miles and miles and he became lost in the sight. His green eyes shown with delight as he gripped the balcony of the boat felling the chipped paint under is palm. A palm that belonged to a free man, on his way to Paris. He laughed at the irony, so many people were fleeing Europe to come to the opportunities in America, and here he was running away from his duties to live a happy life in Europe. At least, that's what he though and hoped...but any thing would have been better than what was back in Maine. What was back in Maine had blue eyes, blond hair and was the scariest thing to ever walk this planet. I mean, he use to like her..and then one day she was just different.

Pushing those thoughts to the back of his head, he concentrated on the feeling of his whole heart swelling as he finally saw land. Many many weeks on this boat had practically driven him mad; if not all the clever pranks he could play on the crew. He laughed in remembrance. Why, after the one man woke up with whip cream smeared all over his face, he was darn near thrown of the boat.

" So classic yet, surprisingly hilarious." Despite his cheerful demeanor, deep down in his heart he worried, for only god knows what lay wait for him in Paris, beneficial or life threatening. He took a deep breath, there was no turning back now, the last words of his parents echoed through his head.

_Where are you going?_

_Away from here!_

_But you are to be married, she is waiting for you! _

_Never! _

_But you loved her before!_

_I did nothing of the sort!_

_Son you walk out that door and never again will you be allowed back in! You will disgrace the family!_

_I DON'T CARE! _

And with a defiant footstep, he was out of the mansion and into the real world. No more being pressured into finding a trophy wife, no more lame lessons on becoming a manager of his fathers bank. He was just like everyone else. And no matter what fear arose in him as the boat docked in was gone as soon as he saw it. Paris.

**Tada:D oooooh, im done now! But expect the second chapter like very soon...:d sorry I had to redo this one..ur all pissed im sure. I so sorry! Lol. Anyway no need to review if you haven't already...but review if you haven't!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey hey hey! And no im not dead! here's the new chapter...:D. Enjoy! oh crap that was it? Its never been that short before...ooooooooo**

**P.s, thanks to all those that reviewed! It was so nice of u to review to such a small chapter...:D. Much love :D**

**Paradise Raver: glad u like the idea:DI had some doubts about people wanting to read something like this!**

**greenlobster7878: I hope that u won't be disappointed! I'll work extra hard on this one! . :D**

**XxRavenxX : thanks 4 the review.! And you r so right about the bb/rae. U must be psychic! Oooooooo. :D**

**Sorceress of Demon Otters: well, I hope that this chapter will be suffice.! And now that its summer my update shouldn't be so infrequent. :D**

**ninjamonkey: thanks for the review, I hope my story turns out okay. Lol. Enjoy:D**

**keri2004: Sorry it took so long thanks for the review :D im so glad you liked it!**

**HAPPILI INSANE: love the user name :D yeppers, Raven is a little french girl :D now stop spoiling all my surprises lol ..:D**

**Darkofthenigh: heehee...! thanks for ur comment! Here is the update...! enjoy :D**

**purplemusicgoddess: eehee, I love that part,. Terra must die eehee! Lol, she's a broomsticks.:D thanks for your comment...! ttys!**

**Edward Elric55: really? You liked the chapter? Thanks Im so glad, cuz its just the opening.:D**

**p.s: Eeveeshadows is outwardly sorry for all her annoying smily faces :D dammit not again!**

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disclaimer: I am dissing all claims that I own the teen titans. I don't. Meehee.

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His shoes made a sharp clicking sound as he descended from the massive steam boat. Here his was, his dreams on the edge of his sleeve, all hopes riding on Paris . This was his only chance to make a name for himself other than "son of a wealthy banker."So, setting a firm grip on his suitcase , he headed out onto the smooth, paved stone streets; into the massive sea of black suites and horse carriages.

Apartments and corner shops lined the cobblestone walkways and a colorful array of people were seen in all their French glory. Their were flowers, groceries, and baked goods below every second story balcony. Long strings of laundry that had been hung out to dry occasionally caught his eye, showing of clothes of all social classes. Their were corsets, shawls, redingotes and walking dresses. Work clothes, paint suites and petticoats. The buildings, which had the illusion that they were blocking out the sun, were so close that its seemed like the architects cemented them together like the stones that made up the streets of Paris. Soft off-whites, blues, and reds, sometimes greens, made up the color pallet of the exterior design of the towering complexes. Occasionally a darker brown would replace the usual reds and blues of a coffee house.

The signs above store entrances swayed in the wind, as if celebrating his arrival and the rushing water of the Seine seemed to be laughing at the goofy grin planted on his face as he saw...her.

No women in America could make his heart stop like that, it was an instant infatuation. Her long dark hair stop at her mid- back, and the white tailored blouse and deep blue skirt showed off her perfect figure. It was a very common lower class French wardrobe, the long, some-what puffed sleeve on the collard shirt were tight at the wrist. A simple line of buttons ran down the center, stopping at the waist and frilling out above a long, blue skirt with a dirty beige apron on it. Peeping out beneath the bottom of the skirt were a pair of worn out shoes. She looked nothing like the women in America, with their giant dresses that made them look like marshmallows. With all the lace and frill, it looked like the women were about to be swallowed! They were low cut and had a very tight waist, which was apparently suppose to be more beautiful. He liked the look of this better, it looked so much more real.

Catching his breath, he prepared to go over and...talk to her? Oh my...oh no.

_I don't know how to speak French! What was I thinking? Oh this is horrible. What am I gonna do? How am I going to live here? How am I...gonna get a job? Where am I gonna live? What was I thinking? Okay Gar, relax. It won't do any good to panic. Im just stuck here in a foreign country with no idea how to speak the language and no job experience. Dammit. I mean, I was educated but will that do any good? Oh crap. _

Looking around for anything that might help, his eyes landed on a group of men having a discussion about, something. They were standing in a circle and by the way they were dressed they looked like they owned the country. Also, their sharp suites and black hates were the same ones he was use to seeing on American bankers around his house. It was the most familiar thing so far in the city, which somehow ignited a little bit of his confidence. So, the poor lost American took a leap and approach some very elite French men.

Et donc alors j'ai dit, cela n'est pas de maîtresse, cela est ma femme !

The group emitted a loud laugh, apparently because of what the youngest member of the group had stated. He was of a common height and seemed a little bit muscular. He wore a very dark hat, and from wear Gar was standing, the shadows blocked out half of his face. He had a very dark circle around the eye that was visible that made him look almost like he was earing a mask. He began to approached the group of men.

"Um, excuse me? Do any of you speak English?" It was easy to see that the little bit of confidence that had been "ignited" was not enough to allow Gar Logan's voice to come above a whisper.

"Quel était cela ? "

"Je ne sais pas."

"L'attente, son venir de ce peasant là-bas. Im désolé mendiant mais nous n'a pas d'argent pour l'aime de vous. Loin avec vous ! "

" Im sorry, I don't speak French". The men's tough demeanor did not help Gar's confidence , which was now as low as the men's voices.

"Don't speak French? Well beggar, you won't do too good in this city. It is Paris you know."

Again the obnoxious, higher class men laughed at the simply "hilarious" phrases the youngest member kept emitting. As soon as the laughs died down to snickers, Gar mustered all the courage that was left and again tried to reason with the upper-class.

" I was wondering if you knew were I could find a job? Im looking to be a photographer"

"Really? Well, you see that young women over there? With the blue skirt?"

"Yes."

"Well, she is the hired help in an art studio. The artist is looking to hire a photographer. You might be interested."

" Oh yes! Thank you very much sir! Thanks you thank you! "

"All you half to do is tell her "Combien une heure vous est ? " and she'll know what your talking about.

" Combien une heure vous est ? I think I can manage. Thank you again Sir."

Gar could not be happier. Not only was he getting a job, but he got a chance to work with the same girl that stole his heart away earlier. A job and possible and new wife, if he new Paris was this much fun he'd have left decades ago. His goofy grin returned and his heart was flying through the sky. Soon his brisk pace got him to the flower stand where the dark haired goddess was admiring a group of red roses.

" Um...Combien une heure vous est ? "

His joy was suddenly smashed by the swift slap that landed him a red mark on the side of his face. Since the position of his face was altered enough to see back to where he previously encountered the group of men, he was able to see them burst into another fit of laughter. He may have been naive enough to fall for the trick, but he new what had happened. Combien une heure vous est was probably some French swear word of heinous phrase. Refusing to look the flustered young lady next to him in the eye, he ran from the flower stand and away from the men whose laughter was still ringing in his ear.

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Fresh tears dripped down the side of his face and the grip Gar had on his suitcase tightened. He should have known that a break wouldn't have come so quickly and so easily. What came so quick and so easily was a trick that embarrassed him in front of a beautiful girl and made him the bunt end of another joke from that young bank member. But what hit him hard was here in was, taking shelter in an old alley. He had no food, no house and no money. Inside his suitcase were some mediocre clothes that he took from a servant and his precious camera equipment. Gar Logan had managed to travel from one extreme to the next, a wealthy heir to a beggar on the street. He would probably die here, alone and without accomplishing anything. His family wouldn't care, those French men he just meant wouldn't care. How easily fate had stolen all the joy that had built up in his heart. The scenery, the women, how fast it all changed. And here he was, staring at the built up garbage across from him wondering if he'd ever make it out of here alive. Resting his head on his knees in defeat, Gar Logan fell asleep, hoping he would never wake up.

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A sharp pain in his stomach awoke Gar from his sleep. As soon as his vision cleared he saw about 4 men going through his suitcase. Alarm hit him like a ton of bricks, here he was defenseless while a gang pilfered his belongings! Getting to his feet he didn't notice the tall teenager behind him in a tight black shirt, nor did he prepare himself for the swift kick in the ass.

"Si, votre petit garçon riche, vivant et calme ? "

"Huh? I don't speak French!"

Gar's voice was frustrated and full of panic. The only worthwhile thing in his life was about to be stolen and he wouldn't let it happen.

" Give it back! Give it back! Give it back.! "

Try as he might, he calls did nothing to stop the thieves, and he was greeted with only more pain as the teen in the black skirt continued to beat him up. He was quickly hit in the face, and when the boy saw he was not yet unconscious he was slammed into the alley wall. A few more kicks in the rear, and Gar was knock out after feeling the blood trickle down his face and seeing the group flee with his precious green suitcase.

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**Well mes amis? Did u like it ? Huh huh. It you review I tell you what all the French meant...! nah Im just kidding, here it is:**

**Et donc alors j'ai dit, cela n'est pas de maîtresse, cela est ma femme ! thats no mistress that's my wife! ( I needed a cliche joke...)**

**"Quel était cela ? ": who's there?**

**"Je ne sais pas.": I don't know**

**"L'attente, son venir de ce peasant là-bas. Im désolé mendiant mais nous n'a pas d'argent pour l'aime de vous. Loin avec vous ! " look its that peasant over there. Im sorry beggar we have no money to give you. Now away with you!**

**"Si, votre petit garçon riche, vivant et calme ? " so, your still alive little rich boy?**

**And now your all probably wondering what that forbidden phrase meant..well, if I get enough reviews I'll tell you guys :D so go ahead...push the little button ! And I hope you liked it.! Oo what the hell, Combien une heure vous est means how much an hour are you. 0o Ohhh im too nice but I still want a review...! not that your pressured or anything :D always,** eeveeshadows.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey hey hey , moi here with my third chapter..! Omg wow, im starting it already :D ! Anyway, I don't have much else to say except I hope everyone's summer is going well, mine is :D and um, hope this nouveau chapter is worth while :D**

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**and now, the review responses:D thanks so much! . I feel so loved tear. :D**

**ROAR-WRITER : thanks for your posty :D and for taking the time to review :D**

**Edward Elric55: Thanks for your posty! Brillant idea? I am so thrilled :D thanks for the nice review :D**

**HAPPILI INSANE: thanks again 4 ur review..:D aww, all the nice things will go to my head lol. Im glad u like the story...:D**

**purplemusicgoddess: glad you liked my joke...:D yeppers, I speak French but not very well so um, I'm not sure if its really "all" right..so don't take my work for it. But don't worry, im not bull-shitting you guys :D**

**Darkofthenight: yeppers, this takes place in the ...late 1800s. Like 1890 about :D It's the period when impressionist started their revolution of the art world :D my fav time period.**

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**disclaimer: im just gonna be simple about this, no attempts to make this creative, no half-hearted humor to spice up this disclaimer, no more of my usual play on words, im just gonna say it : I don't own the teen titans, and I never will ( well, I wouldn't go that far) dammit! My disclaimer is becoming longer than the first chapter of this story :D lol**

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As his eyes opened Gar found himself in a small, dark and damp apartment. The smell of smoke was heavy in the air, and he wasn't use to it at all. Letting out a hoarse cough, he sat up to get a better look at his surroundings. Unfortunately, he was overcome with a wave of pain, from his pounding head. This brought on painful memories of the yesterday, and of his life at the moment. He was jobless, homeless and ...camera- less. What would his grand-mother say if she new that the present she had given him for his first birthday was gone? It hurt, a lot.

Snapping back to his current situation our favorite helpless American wondered exactly where the hell he was. By the way his luck was going, those thugs from last night probably are saving him for dessert. Who knows what their evil minds had planned? Torture, murder! Fear overcame poor little Gar Logan, until he looked around the room, which was empty.

It was very lowly apartment. It was dusty and very hot, but at the same time damp from previous rains. The walls were tattered and worn and had no paint or wallpaper...or anything. The only wall decoration that he could see in the minimal light , there was only one window, was a painting on the wall in a very cheap frame. It was blurry from where he was standing but it looked like a portrait of a women. There was a small table and chair in the corner near a stove and cupboard. He had been laying in the middle of the room on a blanket across from a run down bed near a old wooden closet.

Another wave of pain hit him, and despite how nervous he was about his present surroundings he laid back down and fell asleep.

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Eventually, his body was rested enough and are paranoid American friend awoke from his restless sleep. This time though, instead of being overcome by a wave of pain, he was hit by a tidal wave of nausea. The smell of smoke was stronger than ever. Wincing, Gar sat up despite how much coughing he was doing. All of a sudden, he heard a delicate giggle. It wasn't girly but it wasn't hoarse, it was very womanly and seductive. The bright light of a lantern cast a faint glow around the room, but it allowed him to see whomever else was here. Immediately the fear left him as he viewed the women residing with him, there was no way she could hurt him. She was frail, brittle and very thin. He new she couldn't be more than 18, but smoking had taken a lot of her years and she looked like she was in her late forties. The black and purple outfit was very revealing. She wore very high black boots above her knees, clearly visible along with her hosiery. Her skirt wasn't a huge, but it wasn't as leisurely as the one on the girl he "met" before and it had two layers, the bottom being purple ; and slightly longer; and the top being black. The top she was wearing looked more like a corset than a blouse and her make-up and hair style gave away her profession. Indeed, Gar Logan had met his first hooker.

"Ah, donc vous êtes éveillé. La sensation mieux ? "

"Huh?"

"Vous devrez excuser Jean Ràncid. Il est comment à vous dites, insatiable ? "

She let out another chuckle, and despite how entrancing it was it seemed half-hearted.

"M'excuse ? Monsieur ? Etes-vous muet ? "

" I don't speak French!" Oh how he hated that phrase, it made him want to break down and cry and smash something with a hammer at the same time.

" Oh, Okay. Don't worry I know English"

" What? You speak English ...Really?"

" You seem surprised. I mean, you left your rich inheritance to come to Paris for a "better life" with no idea even how to say " I'd like a job" in French but you don't expect people to speak English?" This time her laugh was hearty, she must have really thought that his current situation was funny.

" Hey! You don't have to be so mean about it ! And...how do you know that?"

"What? That you left you wealthy parents and spoiled life for Paris?"

" Um, yeah."

" Well, not only am I a fortune teller, but I was once in the same situation. Its like...we are connected by a common bond."?

Gar's eyes went wide. " Really?"

She was laughing so hard now that tears dotted the corners of her eyes. " No. Your shoes."

" My shoes? What?"

" Look at your shoes. You think any lower class men would have shoes like that?"

" um." Sneaking a peak at his footwear Gar noticed despite the mud and dirt that had taken residence on his black shoes they were well built and still almost new.

" Exactly. So, before you get more hurt than you are now, go back home. Before its too late. " She placed a green suitcase in his hands and turned to the picture on the wall."

" What? " It was his suitcase, and inside was all his camera equipment and clothes.

" Oh my. Oh! Where! Where did you get this ! How..I mean wow! Thank you! Thank you so much! "

" Relax.! Jean Ràncid is a frequent client. He stole your equipment to pay for one night with me. He gave it to me to pawn so after , you know, I came back to see if you were alright. "

" I owe you my life. How kind of you"

" Really, it was the least I could do. I understand what your going through really, life back home is unfair and restricting. But Paris holds nothing for people like us. You may think it may be the answers to your prayers and someone will just take you in and make you a star but this is real life, not some sappy romantic story being written by a love sick fool. Go back home, your weak , stupid and have no skills. "

" What? Hey...I'm not stupid."

" At least I taught myself French before coming, which is more than I can say for you."

" But you're a ...prostitute." He whispered the last part, that was not a word Gar was use to saying or hearing, and he didn't want it to become one.

" So? At least I can get a job. Now, this isn't like your East Coast mansion, this is the real deal. The lower class neighborhood, if you could call it that, is not the place for some pansy that thinks he can make it in Paris. "

" Hey! I am not a pansy..! I may have forgotten I don't speak French. And I may not have any "real life skills" as you put it. And I may be a spoiled little rich boy but I am not going back! If I can't make it in Paris I'll go somewhere else...!" Gar was steaming mad by this point. No low-life whore was going to tell him what to do.

She was a little shocked by his reaction. " Did you happen to a see a bread shop while you were downtown. Its very homely with a nice red roof and huge windows. Its very popular, between locals and tourist. In fact, its getting so popular they may need some extra help. "

Gar was speechless. Was this the same person?"

" Now get the hell outta here. I have a client coming soon."

" You have saved my life more than once kind women. I don't know how I can ever thank you."

" No need. But if your ever in the neighborhood, food would be great!"

"Can I get a name?"

"Jinx. ", she stated before blowing another puff of smoke in his face.

A cough, a giggle and a hug were shared between the two and soon Garfield departed. He didn't have anything to lose so he decided to take a chance on this one. Hoping that fate would give him a break, he again headed out into the streets of Paris.

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**hells ya! Im done im done im done! And the next chapter will be coming soon. I want to squeeze as much in as possible before school starts up again :D ! Well...if you guys really wanna know what all the french was...then review! Muahahahahahah :D eehee... sorry im to lazy to do any more writting. Well, thats all for now..always, eevee shadows.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey hey hey! Im back...thanks 4 the reviews people...! I guess I better tell u what all that french crap meant huh? Ok here its is :D oh, and enjoy the new chapter ! Like I said...enjoy the more frequent updates b4 school starts. :D Wait Wait? Is this my 4th chapter? OMG! I never got tis far b4...ahhhhh :D Kudos 4 me.**

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The french :

Ah, donc vous êtes éveillé. La sensation mieux : ah, your awake. Feeling better?

Vous devrez excuser Jean Ràncid. Il est comment à vous dites, insatiable : You'll have to excuse Jean Ràncid ( Johnny Rancid. Like how I frenchi-fied his name? Heehee). He is , how do you say, unsatiable? "

M'excuse ? Monsieur ? Etes-vous muet : Excuse me? Mister? Are you mute?"

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Review Response:D Thanks so much everyone :D I really really appreciate my reviews...its awesome..:D Ok, now 2 respond...

Orange; who is to lazy to login : Yes, I so agree Jinx rocks. She is the best kick ass villain! Eehee...anyway thanks 4 your posty . Lots more Raven now..this is her entering chapter. Dammit, did I spoil my surprise...

Purplemusicgoddess: Thanks 4 your review...! Im on your favorite list...:D! YAAA! Im glad you all like the fact I made Jinx a prostistute...Oo! Eehee!

HAPPILI INSANE: Thanks again 4 your posty faithful reviewer:D Glad u liked it!

EdxWrin: Glad you like it faithful reviewer! I guess I better put mroe French in..I was gonna stop, nah nah jj!

Darkofthenight: Thank thank thank you! Hope you like the new chapter :D

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Disclaimer: I do not own the Teen titans..( Lazy 2day eehee)

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After his strange encounter with a most peculiar savior, Garfield headed back out onto the streets of Paris. It was amazing that in the short amount of time he was here, this city has already thrown him on enough ups and down to compensate for his boring years at his family's manor. It was very thrilling and filling despite his brush near death.. Anyway, Gar Logan held no hard feelings for this foreign country and probably never would even if he were to die here traumatically. At least he was out here, on the streets, living. What good was life if one never got the chance to experience it, despite what bad misfortunes came his way? Nope, he'd rather live a life of pain and misery here than not live at all back in his cozy security. And so, he headed back downtown with only one thing on his mind: Red roof.

If only his mislead friend had given him a few more details, their must have been at least a dozen red roofs and trying to find the supposed bread shop was near hopeless. Was he being thrown for another loop? I mean, she didn't even tell him how the hell to introduce himself. He could just as well have been in the middle of the Pacific ocean because his rescue boat was no where to be seen.

" Ah...Jinx. What the hell! " Gar again found himself in a state of frustration. Not only did he forget to learn French before he came, but he also forgot to ask for more precise directions before he left the small apartment. He truly was an idiot wasn't he?

" Hey, man are you one fo those crazy types?"

" huh? You speak English?"

" Of course I do! And you look like an American."

" Oh really? Man, you read me well. Garfield Logan, nice to meet you. And can I... "

"Victor Stone. My father owns the Hotel right behind me. Im American myself if I do say so. "

" Wow, what a relief. Wait, your father owns _that _a hotel?"

" Oh hell ya! She's our baby."

" So man, what's with you?"

"Um, A friend of mine, Jinx, told me that a local bread shop was looking for work, but I can't find it..."

" Oh, Jinx. So she's a 'friend' of yours. Right...I get it."

" No really, she's just a friend! "

" C'mon man, we've all been curious. I ain't judging you! "

" No really! She's just a friend."

" Your one of those prude types aren't you?"

" What! No, I just ...am saving it for someone special." He whispered the last part.

" Your one of those crying types too right! " Victor seemed to find this rather hilarious. After all, he was what you would call the ultimate man. With his 3-piece black suit, elegant silk tie and sharp hat. He had a cane with him, but he was very well built with huge biceps, so you know he didn't need it. He was a playboy, liked to drink and be on top of things.. He was the heir to The Rosella, a very swanky hotel that had just been established a few years back. It was an instant hit, with its decadent French architecture on the outside and a more modern American interior, a hit with the locals and the tourist.

Well, he grew up in an high power world of brown-nosing and cunning escapades, and through it all emerged as on of the most prestigious young gentlemen in Paris.. No one would ever mess with Victor Stone, he had connections. He was a stunning athlete, a well admired man of power and despite the day and age his color was never a problem. You could never meet a man that was more like, a man! Meat, girls, power, meat, girls, girls, girls, meat, power, fun, fun ,fun girls. Victor Stone everyone!

"Mon Chéri! ."

"Bonjour! ." The tall skinny blond giggled as he grinned and winked at her.

"Je n'ai jamais rencontré une femmes françaises avant. "

"Mais Vic, vous avez habité ici pendant 5 ans maintenant. ... "

" Voyant en fait que vous me faites me rend compte que je n'ai jamais vu une vraies femmes, jusqu'à présent. "

She let out another giggle. Gar just stood back and waited, he wasn't about to try and interrupt. Her didn't speak French, but he has a pretty clear idea what was going on.

"Donc comment de demain la nuit je vous montre qu'un vrai homme est comme. ... "

She nodded her head before leaving with her friends , all of which were giggling like air heads.

" Ah, I am the man. In fact, they call me coffee because I grind so fine..."

"I truly admire your talent Mr. Stone..."

" So formal ! Man, you can call me Vic."

"Um, okay.. Vic. Could you help me find.."

" Oh yeah, the bread shop. No problem man. Come with me.

" Thank you so much! I'll have to make it up to you one day."

" Hey no problem. My pleasure...always ready to help some body out! We should get together some time.."

" That sounds awesome!"

" Oh yeah baby! I mean, when you live in this city...their's fun around every corner."

" Wow, that sounds like its right up my alley! I can't wait."

"Man, when you live in Paris, the doors are always open."

" Are you done with those...mono er, eta...I mean"

"Man what the hell are you talking about? You never payed attentions to your grammar classes did you?"

"Maybe...Well your one to talk!"

The two of them took off down the street. How lucky of Gar to run into these kinds of people. One minute he was tangled up in a web of cruel and savage human beings that could have ended his life and the next he had some new cool friends to fall back on. I mean, so they were a little morally wayward, but they didn't try to kill him, rob him or trick him into humiliating himself into in front of beautiful women. And as far was Gar was concerned...that was good enough for the moment.

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" So little man, what part of America did you come from?"

" Uh, East Coast.."

" Cool man. I'm from Providence, you?"

" Uh, West Virginia. "

"So, I know that you ain't some servant boy running away from a terrible master..you were a wealthy little bugger weren't you?"

" What? How can you.."

"Your shoes man ! "

" Always with the shoes! Listen, I appreciate all you've done for me but Im not in the mood to poor out my life story."

" Chill man, Im just asking! But I'll drop it."

" But I would like to get to know you better."

"Yo! You ain't no girl..were men. Lets ..enjoy some games or something sometime."

" That'd be..oh I mean. Thats...cool."

" Okay cool. Oh hey! There's your bread shop now! Hey, that's Raven's place."

" Do you know everyone in this town?"

" Man, I like to be seen and keep good relations. And why not know everyone if their's so many interesting people to know? Enjoy your new job man, best of luck! "

" Thanks Vic, I owe you one! "

" I'll hold you too that man!"

Taking a deep breath, Gar approached the wooden door. Placing his hand over the brass knob he gave it a little push, which caused a bell to ring signaling that the red door has just been open. Two heads looked up from their current tasks as Gar peered inside. And..

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**The end! I have now officially decided to no longer continue this story..it is finished..I shall quit while im a head...( With only about ...5 reviews...your all pissed cuz I haven't updated my last story aren't u?"**

**and one last note: APRIL FOOLS! ( but its not April...) It is in Japan... ( No its not..) Whatever...anyways the truth is im leaving u all on a cliffy and im not telling the French crap unless I get like...10 reviews.. I mean no I mean 10! Im serious people review...:D ! always, eeveeshadows**


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